When Summer Comes...

Post by AquarianM on May 28, 2009 at 5:06am

When Summer Comes...

Sun shining brilliant of diamond clarity,
On grasses and trees a sea of green,
The Rock of my youth turned way up,
Windows down on the highway and wind in my hair,
Memories of Summer nights dancing noon 'til two,
Walking home miles along the river by starlight,
Plastered and exhausted and impatient for another night,
Raw motion emotion and music saturated,
Wild and light on my feet as lightning,
The river still runs there where the festival comes,
The night clubs burned down or deserted,
Memories of an era of incessant motion,
When Rock County was the ruler of dance,
Miles by scores and centuries in every golden direction.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/19/2009

Break Dancing....

Post by AquarianM on Jul 10, 2009 at 1:54am

Break Dancing....

I swear this ankle behaves better the more I move it,
Something I found between the edge of sleep and passion,
Tuning in to a radio station quite by accident,
Driving into work tonight I hit the dance mix channel,
Sucked in by the beat to those old days,
When I was young and lithe and 100 pounds lighter.

I felt the ages fall away from my soul,
Remembering what it was to just move,
All beat and no thought,
Sound and heat and attraction,
Wild and free.

I pulled up the old disco on the PC at work,
Stood on my aching ankle and just rocked away,
And for a few minutes,
The pain rocked away with me.

That's when it struck me -
Entropy slows down in the face of rapid motion.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/10/2009

Star-Kissed...

Star-Kissed...

I've looked up at the night sky ever-after,

That fateful day in Summer school,

Betwixt second and third;

My favorite teacher rolled out a cart,

Mrs. Olsen's little black-and-white screen,

The one the Eagle landed on,

Two-hundred and sixty-five thousand,
Miles over our heads.

Look up and see the stars.

Star Trek entered my life at ten years old,

Logically-speaking,

It's long been one of my joys,

So \\//_ .

Dream and dream of the stars.

Fireflies and lightning bugs,

They remind me of Summer stars,

I miss them so.

Catch the stars and put them in a jar of grass.

High school brought astronomy class,

Class not club,

Touring the University of Wisconsin telescope,

There in Madison,

We spied on the nebula in Orion's belt.

Cold bright stars so far so far so far away.

At eighteen,

I was playing with sparks,

An electronics technician in New Mexico,

All those science texts good for something;

There was a rural park there,

In the darkest of the Lower Forty-Eight.

There was always promise of stars at night.

Rick and his six-year-old daughter Lisa,

Out in a State park in the desert,

Watching the Milky Way glow,

Lisa would catch a satellite for us,

Every time.

Faint stars at the edge of vision fleeting circling above us.

We debated how to power space craft,

Impractically in practical terms,

There with the telescope taking turns.

An eye to the stars has company all 'round the world.

Saw a UFO zig-zagging over Temecula,

A week after we moved here,

Horizon-to-horizon,

Purple and blue glow flitterbug,

Were you a visitor from the stars?

There must be something kinder out in all that glorious infinity.

Star-Kissed,
Look up and see the stars,
Dream and dream of the stars,
Catch the stars and put them in a jar of grass,
Cold bright stars so far so far so far away,
There was always promise of stars at night,
Faint stars at the edge of vision fleeting circling above us,
An eye to the stars has company all 'round the world,

There must be something kinder out in all that glorious infinity.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 08/29/2017

The Bane Of Forgiveness...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 14, 2009 at 1:12am

The Bane Of Forgiveness...

There was a young witch who whispered on the wind,
Calling a lover's name for some simple sin,
A time she thought to dally in pleasure,
Simple sin for a single night.

The wind was fickle and brought her love true,
A Knight in Paladin's white bearing a golden ring,
Speaking in earnest tones of sweet lovers' dreams,
It was Summer then and the heat was high.

She left him enspelled and wearing dusty boots,
A raving lunatic with rusted armor and broken mail,
Downcast eyes with barely a light,
A tragic figure the Devil's own delight.

Every time Summer comes he tries to forgive,
But this requires him to remember that she left,
As the white light of the Paladin fails to enshroud him,
He mourns the end of Summer and the sight of Fall's golden leaves.

Fate was wicked upon him,
And memory was the bane of all forgiveness,
A wonder that will never cease,
Not even when his bones are dust in soul's sleep.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/14/2009

The Perfect Bowl Of Soup...

Post by AquarianM on Jun 12, 2009 at 12:23am

The Perfect Bowl Of Soup...

If I could take what's in your eyes,
Boil it down in a huge steaming pot,
Stir in what's in your heart,
Maybe a fresh onion,
Carrots and tears and smiles,
Celery and pain,
The scent of helpless joy,
And the taste of home,
Just a hint of future possibilities,
Ancient ways and traditions,
Youthful exuberance and chopped carrots,
Five drops of a dream come true...

The scent roiling up from the pot would leave me speechless,
The perfect bowl of soup.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/08/2009

Author's note:
I watched Ramen Girl tonight. Poets will get it easily.

Welsh Hills...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 20, 2009 at 8:14am

Welsh Hills...

The evening is raw and fallen,
The chill bone-deep upon the wind.

The stones by the solemn blue seaside are wary and drab,
Laid in a place where hearts rage in wounded silence.

There is a cold and ancient magic there,
Amid the barrows and monoliths in the Welsh hills.

It makes people sing.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/18/2009

Movin' Time Blues...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 30, 2009 at 11:54pm

Movin' Time Blues...

Put it here,
Throw it there,
Push it - pull it up the stairs,
Drenched in sweat,
No time for sleep,
To take your life it will constantly creep,
Move it, move it move it!

A change of address,
A change of state,
Relaxed to busy,
Resigned to fate,
Exhaustion's folly,
I'm not one spared,
These new digs now must be shared.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/31/2009

Author's Note:
We've been moving all week. I hope to be done by Saturday - so the "putting away" can begin.

Candy Apple Strat...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 27, 2009 at 11:16pm

Candy Apple Strat...

Twang!

I can feel a little heat off the amp,
It's like a Christmas bulb in my eyes,
Pretty and hot.

I've waited for years and later finally came,
I can hear it screaming sweet in my head,
Waiting for release.

Slow steady work finally located Rome,
Now for the years to build it,
Not starting a day too late.

I can feel all my legends buzzing under my skin,
If I can play anything they invented I'll be thrilled,
Finding joy in a burst of song.

Glory days don't have to pass you by.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/28/2009

Author's Note:
I bought a Mexican-made used Fender Stratocaster on eBay, the guitar you see pictured here. She's in mint condition and plays like a dream. Candy Apple Red with a rosewood fretboard. I'm thinking to call her Rosie. I have a lot of learning to do - I'm also wanting to learn to repair guitars on the side. No, I have not given up the sax - but at times I get in a rut with it and have to put it down for a few days. I've wanted one of these for 20 years - so now I can alternate between the two.

Max Eclipse...

Max Eclipse...

Max couldn't wait,
It was coming on the morning,
The greatest show off Earth these days.

He was all ready,
Got the specs from a friend,
Cheesey paper hot to hand,
Lawn chair in the driveway.

Like a strange throwback to the 1950's,
Max bug-eyed the sun,
Holding onto reality for dear life,
A lonely geek planted on the concrete.

His namesake hit it at sixty percent,
Max Eclipse watched the max eclipse,
Of the Sun,
Just like in the Carly Simon song,
Without any of the vanity.

2017 should be a good year.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/23/2017

Yuku Is Stinky...

Yuku Is Stinky...

Eat my pictures,
Thou black hole of the web,
This slow orbit to nothing,
I see it coming,
It's the Tapatalk curse,
The slow squeezing death,
We're all just frogs in your boiling pot,
You maddening beast from the depths of Hades,
Watching the magic fade,
I understand the Fey Folk now,
Thanks to Yuku.

The beast from Mordor is sniffing about the bushes.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/23/2017

Gonna Give Rosie A Ring...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 29, 2009 at 8:43am

Gonna Give Rosie A Ring...

Ah,

Sweet mornin' glowing bright and true,
Gonna give Rosie a ring,
Sweet-playing thang,
Gonna give Rosie a ring.

If the day comes when I'm feelin' down n' blue,
Gonna give Rosie a ring,
All six strings,
Give Rosie a ring.

Playin' true in the morning,
Strummin' happy by evenin',
Even if I can barely sing,
Just gonna give Rosie a ring.

Someday I'll play so fine,
Happy up on cloud nine,
All because I gave Rosie a ring,
Sweet-playin' thang,
Just gonna give Rosie a ring.

And when Heaven calls,
Won't need no harp in the Angel halls,
No,
Just gonna give - give Rosie a ring,
Lord, let me give Rosie a ring.

Aahaaaa,
Yeah,
Give Rosie a ring.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/29/2009

Honey Be...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 31, 2009 at 3:36pm

Honey Be...

The birds and the bees,
Know a thing or three.

The sun up above,
Shines down on our love.

Oh, Honey be,
Sweet for me,
I'll love you,
Forever and I do.

The flowers and the trees,
wil see me on my knees.

Only for you,
Honey, yes it's true.

Oh, Honey be,
Sweet for me,
I'll love you,
Forever and I do.

When I see you smile,
It thrills me like a child.

Sweet Summer Sweet,
You're my honey treat.

Oh, Honey be,
Sweet for me,
I'll love you,
Forever and I do.

The birds and the bees,
Know a thing or thee.

You're the one for me,
So pretty and so sweet.

Oh, Honey be,
Sweet for me,
I'll love you,
Forever and I do.

Oh, Honey be,
Sweet for me,
I'll love you,
Forever and I do,
Love you.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/31/2009

High Summer On Herrick Lake...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 13, 2009 at 2:04pm

High Summer On Herrick Lake...

The sky is a cloudless seventy five and sweet.

The breezes soft as a baby's kiss,
The grasses dance slow,
Slow and sultry and tall.

People are all around and reverent,
Walking dogs,
Rowing boats and canoes,
Fishing,
Throwing frisbees,
Lying in dappled shade holding hands.

The leather and wood I carry is essential,
Almost as old as I am,
Somewhat battered and serviceable,
Beauty inside waiting.

I find an old picnic table in the shade,
Down at the far end of the lake,
I can scent the green and mirror water,
Dragon flies dancing over sparkling rowboat wakes.

Everything is green and light,
Faint hints of Summer's yellow end barely showing.

I pull the golden brass from its case,
And through me Bello sings.

Clear as water and bright,
The notes drift out over the lake,
Easy and mellow,
The reed sings to all its cousins,
"I am alive!"

I bring the notes down low and rumbling,
A deference to Thunder that's left us all this grceful peace,
Then push for the ragged edge of harmonics,
As close to chords as a saxophone gets.

Young children stare in delighted surprise and wonder,
Parents smile and walk slower.

People smile in passing,
I play and play,
One of the last bright Sundays of Summer languidly passing by.

If this is not church and worship and thank-you to God,
I am lost and deaf and blind,
No more so than sources of dispute.

I roll gently through the deep and soft notes of my ending song,
Disassemble,
Close the case,
Walk back to the yellow truck.

A fine cigar and chair are waiting,
Coffee and the songs of frogs and cicadas.

September is sweet,
At peace,
A piece of forever.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/13/2009

My Little Park...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 14, 2009 at 3:12pm

My Little Park...

Over in the old town today,
Doctors and physical therapy.

Finally realeased,
It's like recess,
Cloudless 85 degrees,
The Summer that almost wasn't.

The soybeans in the field are a third golden,
Like God swashed a streak of yellow amid the green paint.

The edges of stately old trees are orange or yellow,
Faint yet unmistakeable signs of Autumn's advent.

Birds lazily chirp in time to cicada melodies,
Not quite ready to flock.

A white egret drifts across blue sky,
Somewhere between fishing ponds.

I've played Bello's golden notes to the lowering Sun,
Laid him to rest and lit my Cameroon cigar.

Butterflies and bees float by,
And if I couldn't see the cars and telephone wires,
I could be a hundred years younger.

I went by the old house today,
The grasses I planted lush and flowering seven feet tall,
Untouched by the mortgage buzzsaw's relentless insanity that cut us out of Paradise.

I sit at my little park on 135th street,
Mentally removing pavement from my picture.

I missed the dandelions so.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A.Stafford
(C) 09/14/2009

Perfect Afternoon...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 21, 2009 at 2:27pm

Perfect Afternoon...

Seventy degrees,
Top-of-the-line cameroon cigar,
An even burn from light to finish,
Not even a lighter-flick between,
One mile per hour breeze.

The songs of birds and insects washing over fields mostly golden,
Weeping willows draped over a small creek,
Sunshine just peeking through a ceiling of grey the last fifteen minutes,
Golden fire that eases up to your feet,
Drifts by like an old friend coming home.

Sipping coffee slowly,
As first leaves of Fall drift down from huge old trees,
They swirl across a country road in circles,
Tickled by Summer's playful good-bye breath.

The Equinox celebrated by life's song,
I am in quiet reverence,
The air of home I breath in,
Last-of-the-season dandelions speckle still-green grass,
Watching clouds kiss the top of an ancient domeless grain silo,
Witnessed by the old barn with a mossy roof.

There is something sacred in moments like this,
Something in my blood and bones knows these lands intimately.

I am feeling close to my ghosts as the season passes,
Another year drifting towards the snows of closure,
I am in this current of time,
Fishing for the best moments,
Another landed in my poetry's net,
Set to live long and glorious,
Resplendant in the color of serenity,
Tinted by a hint of angst,
Poignant in forever's unending universe.

The prairie flowers are my silent witnesses.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/21/2009

(135th Street, Eaton Preserve, Plainfield, Illinois, USA)

Uniform Corn...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 25, 2009 at 4:55am

Uniform Corn...

Row-upon-row of identical gold,
In products wherever they're sold,
Corn oil and plastic,
Corn paper and corn sheets,
I wonder will it someday be corn false teeth?

The whole world over we depend on corn,
Drive it fly it eat it grind it boil it butter it,
Pop it and salt it,
But can you believe it?

Uniform corn with so much uniform DNA,
So few varieties - but when the GM comes into play,
Doomsday seeds and BT,
All the better to kill off the bees,
Floating away on a pollen-filled wind,
The GM genes will do us in.

Will climate change the corn,
Or can our corny world survive?

Uniform corn,
I scorn the uniform corn,
Boil it all and feed it to pigs,
Bring back the indian variety and sweet,
Colors and flavors and fun,
It's all a corn maize we have to run.

Corn rows of blackbirds all in flight,
It's uniform corn that we must fight!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/25/2009

Cold And Howling...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 7, 2009 at 1:26am

Cold And Howling...


It goes right through you,
Like chill fingers tattering your jacket,
Reminds you to get that broken sweat-jacket zipper fixed in a hurry,
Forces your gloves out of pockets,
Whirls litter thirty stories high and more,
Announces Autumn and screams of Winter coming,
Bringing the first full-blown shiver of the season full upon you,
Merciless and fearsome.

A 45-mile-an-hour wind whipping through downtown Chicago,
Forty-nine degrees static,
Pitch dark,
Cold and howling.

I'm begging for a warm fire and hot chocolate,
Wondering at the "Summer" we had this year,
A weak thing barely here and quickly passed.

I've never seen a dark early-October night be so obviously blue.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/07/2009

A Day At The Beach...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 10, 2009 at 7:39am

A Day At The Beach...

Sand - soft and giving usually,
Today packed and damp and hard,
Breakers rumbling tumbling rippling rolling,
Ceaseless as the wind in your hair ears eyes face,
Sea gulls climb it screeching swooping gliding turning,
Sky of grey steel blue charcoal ash in constant motion,
Sun faded washed scrubbed over-dubbed clouds,
Grasses waving blowing swaying rustling browning,
Trees whipping bending tapping turning browning,
Leaves flying drifting swirling falling sliding,
Red ones orange ones yellow ones brown ones crinkle and blow and rustle,
Lake Michigan powerful at your feet moving spraying churning.

The only still things driftwood sitting on the dark yellow sand and old footprints.

Autumn is here and it's another day at the beach.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/10/2009

Prism...

Prism...

Seriously?

THIS again?

Go wash your sheets,
Show your face like a man,
Which you wouldn't recognize,
If his any-color-but-hate whupped your chicken ass.

There's a dark band,
Way out at the edges of the light a prism casts,
But y'all eclipse worse than the Sun in August of 2017.

Begone,
You shadows on the wall of Humanity,
Living in fear and hate.

Find some other planet to darken.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/16/2017

Welcome To The Land Of The Ice And Snow...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 20, 2008 at 1:20am

Welcome To The Land Of The Ice And Snow...

The cold winds of fate grabbed the handle of my shovel,
Adding extra drag to every stroke on ice-caked pavement,
Outlawing the snow thrower in an arbitrary attitude against motorization,
And forced the five pound maul into my hand,
All the better to crack ice off the stoop with,
At least now I can walk.

At night though,
With all the Christmas lights glowing,
Carols on the radio,
All the sore muscle blues fades away into the eggnog glass,
A soothing rhetoric of soft glowing color on pure reflective white.

Dreams come easy then.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/20/2008